A Reflective Dive into Victoria Zeller’s One of the Boys
There’s something wonderfully unique about discovering a story that feels surprisingly relatable, even when the circumstances might be worlds away from your own experience. When I first picked up One of the Boys by Victoria Zeller, I couldn’t have anticipated how deeply I would connect with Grace Woodhouse, a trans girl navigating the chaotic waters of high school football. As someone who transitioned later in life and never played sports in school, Zeller’s exploration of Grace’s journey resonated with me on a level I hadn’t expected.
At its core, One of the Boys is a rich tapestry of identity, resilience, and the complexities of growing up while you’re trying to figure out who you are. Grace comes out as trans right before her senior year, a moment filled with both liberation and uncertainty. The narrative unfolds as she grapples with her identity amid the demanding world of high school sports. When her former teammates welcome her back to the football field, I felt the excitement and dread pulse through each page. Zeller captures the hypermasculine atmosphere of high school sports while illustrating the emotional rollercoaster that comes with reclaiming one’s space in a traditionally male domain.
Zeller’s writing strikes a beautiful balance—neither overly descriptive nor minimalist. It allows for moments of reflection to breathe and resonate. A quote that gave me chills reads: “If things had gone differently—very differently, the way I wish they had in retrospect—I might have been teammates with Riley.” This encapsulates the bittersweet longing that many of us can relate to, regardless of age or circumstance—a feeling that lingers like an unshakable shadow.
I appreciate how Zeller refuses to turn Grace’s trans identity into the sole source of conflict. Instead, it serves as a backdrop for the intricate interplay of her friendships, ambitions, and the painful microaggressions she faces. A particularly impactful moment occurs when Grace’s ex accidentally deadnames her, and her response—“It’s okay, even though I felt like I’d been punched in the throat,”—digs right to the heart of how even well-meaning people can unintentionally cause harm. This nuanced portrayal emphasizes the reality of navigating identity in a world that often misses the mark.
Grace’s journey isn’t just about trans identity; it’s also about the relationships that shape us. As she returns to football, her connections with newfound female friends begin to fray, adding layers of complexity to her experience. Zeller’s skillful exploration of these dynamics felt authentic and true to the tumultuous nature of teenage relationships.
While I’d love to see more of Grace’s father and his role in advocating for her, these are minor moments in a story that otherwise strikes true. The ending delivers poignancy without resorting to cliché resolutions, reflecting the trials of moving from high school into adulthood—a theme that resonates universally.
I wholeheartedly recommend One of the Boys to anyone curious about the intersections of sports, identity, and teenage life. Whether you’re part of the trans community or simply a reader seeking a compelling coming-of-age story, this book packs a punch. It’s a story that made me laugh, cry, and remember what it feels like to navigate the awkward beauty of youth.
Victoria Zeller’s debut stands out not just as a trans narrative but as a celebration of resilience and authenticity. I wouldn’t be surprised if this heartfelt tale finds its way to the screen someday—it’s that engaging. Grab a copy and immerse yourself in Grace’s world. You might find parts of yourself within her journey.